


Tocar

by superhoarding



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superhoarding/pseuds/superhoarding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's almost 4 am, freezing cold outside and something is bothering Spain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tocar

It was just after 3 am and Romano was suddenly freezing. When he had fallen asleep he had been nice and warm, rolled up in the blankets and pressed into Spain's chest so the sudden change in temperature was more than a little jarring. That and the sound of a guitar playing in the distance was enough to pull him out of a formerly peaceful sleep and into less than pleased consciousness. Huffing in annoyance he pulled the blankets tighter around himself and pressed his body into the mattress of the bed.

"Fuckin' cold," he grumbled sleepily as he moved towards the other side of the bed, intending to burrow into Spain's chest and steal some of his body heat. Instead he was met with empty, cold mattress. He sat up and looked over to where Spain had previously been sleeping. The older Nation wasn't in the bed and not even anywhere to be seen in the bedroom. Leaning just a bit over the edge Romano looked towards the master bathroom. The door was open and the light was off so Spain wasn't in there either. Puzzled, Romano looked around the dark bedroom again.

This time he noticed that the door to the balcony was open, which would explain why it was so cold in the bedroom. A glance at the clock on the bedside table told Romano that it was exactly 3:45 am, a very unusual time for the balcony door to be open. Except in the summer, of course, when they left it open most of the night to let cool air in. But it wasn't summer right now. It was the beginning of fall so the door really should not have been open. Maybe that's where Spain was? Huffing again he slid off the bed, wrapping a blanket around himself and dragging it with him as he headed for the balcony.

Sure enough, Spain was seated on the balcony with his guitar in his lap. He was wearing the pajama pants he had on when they went to bed and nothing else. He had to have been freezing. He seemed to be ignoring his surroundings though in favor of idly plucking at the strings which was usually a sign that something was bothering him. He didn't even notice Romano joining him on the balcony, which was another sign. Oblivious as he was to everything else, Spain was usually very aware of Romano's presence.

"Hey," Romano spoke up, nudging one of Spain's feet with one of his own, "The hell are you doing out here, moron? It's almost 4 am."

Spain blinked and looked up, quickly putting a smile on his face when he saw Romano. It was the same smile he wore whenever something was on his mind and he didn't want Romano to know. Of course by now this was mostly ineffective as Romano had spent enough time around him over the years to learn the difference between a real smile and a "everything is just fine don't worry about me" smile. It frustrated him to no end that Spain thought he was actually stupid enough to still fall for it. 

"Ah, sorry. Did I wake you?"

"It's September and you left the fucking balcony door open. Did you really think I wasn't gonna wake up?"  
Spain gave him another smile, this one more genuine at least, and went back to absently plucking at the guitar.

"Sorry."

Vaguely annoyed now for reasons that he couldn't quite place Romano moved closer to Spain and threw himself down next to the older Nation. He looked over at the other with what was supposed to be a glare but actually turned out to be a tired and slightly exasperated look to which Spain responded with an apologetic smile. Romano huffed and reached out to half heartedly punch Spain in the shoulder. It was less of a punch and more of a nudge with his fist. He just didn't have the energy for a real punch.

"You're gonna freeze to death, dumbass," he mumbled, pulling the blanket he had brought out tighter around himself.

"It's not that cold," Spain responded and Romano huffed again. Idiot. Something was definitely bothering him, it was just a matter of getting it out of him. Which of course had to be done in a way that didn't make it seem like Romano was concerned. He was but he also had his pride, damn it.

"You never answered me before," he said as he tilted his head to look at Spain, "What the hell are you doing out here?"

At the question Spain tensed and then slouched a bit, playing another note and remaining silent. He was like that for several minutes but Romano didn't push. When Spain was ready to answer he would answer and it would probably be a lie but that was okay. Romano had never been good at talking about feelings anyway. His own were often overdramatic and made no sense so he was far from an expert on the matter. Instead he sat there and watched Spain, taking in the tense line of his shoulders and the way his eyes remained focused on only the guitar in his lap. It was rare for him to act like this but when he did Romano was often completely at a loss for what to do. Spain wasn't all cheer and obliviousness, which was a fact Romano knew better than anyone else. Still, it was weird to see him so quiet and avoiding a topic like this. At least the signs that there was something bothering him were always the same and Romano had learned them well by now. Finally Spain hummed and some of the tension left his shoulders.

"I just couldn't sleep," he replied. Romano rolled his eyes.

"Right."

He scooted closer to Spain without another word, shifting and throwing the blanket over his former boss' shoulders so he at least probably wouldn't freeze. When the blanket was comfortably around both of them he leaned into Spain's side, head resting against his shoulder. Spain leaned down to press a kiss into his hair before turning attention back to the guitar.

"You can go back to bed, Romano. I'm okay."

"Nah. This is fine."

A comfortable silence fell over them and Romano closed his eyes to listen to the random notes his companion was playing. Occasionally Spain would string the stray notes together into a fragment of a song, some of which Romano recognized and some of which he didn't. Some of them even went as far back as his childhood. Turning his head he buried his face against Spain's neck, opening one eye to look at him. He still didn't know what was bothering Spain and maybe it didn't matter. They could talk about it but talking rarely seemed to do any good. Every time in his life that he had made Spain feel better, it had been by doing something. Not talking. He was bad at feelings and words. Actions were so much easier. Actions like sitting out here on the fucking balcony in September freezing his ass off just to help Spain distract himself.

It would be worth it, though, if Spain actually did feel better in the end. Romano would rather die than ever say that out loud. It was probably painfully obvious that that's what he was doing regardless of his refusal to admit to it.

"Hey, you remember that song you used to play when I was a kid? The one I said wasn't totally stupid?"

"That's not very specific, Roma," Spain replied with a laugh, "But I think I know the one that you mean."

Romano nodded and shifted closer. 

"Play it for me," he said, pausing and then adding, "It's the least you could do after waking me up, damn it."

Spain seemed confused for half a second before a warm, genuine smile spread over his face and he nodded. He pressed another kiss to Romano's hair and shifted the guitar in his lap, previous tension now mostly gone from his body. The best way to help Spain whenever something was bothering him was to give him something else to focus on. Something pleasant that he could turn his attention to and momentarily lift his problems off his shoulders. An old Spanish song was a good way to do that. Romano knew this because he knew Spain better than probably anyone else in the world. He knew him better than France, better than Prussia, better than even Portugal. He had seen Spain at some of his worst moments, moments Spain wouldn't have allowed anyone else to see if he had the choice. But Romano was Romano and therefore always allowed, always welcome.

It was the one thing in Romano's life that always held true. He was trusted, appreciated and loved by Spain which was something that would never stop making him feel good. He would never say it in words, since he was still exceptionally bad at that, but he tried his best to show it through actions. It was why Spain could also claim to know Romano better than anyone else, even Veneziano. Romano excelled at building walls around himself and by now he was a veritable fortress but Spain had long ago been let inside.

Maybe he couldn't always claim to understand Romano but he always knew him, just as Romano always knew Spain. They knew and they tried their best to help, even if they didn't always understand. It was a comfortable, mutual thing between them that had kept them going for centuries now. When Spain started playing Romano didn't feel awkward about cuddling closer to him, pressing a light kiss to his neck. He began quietly humming along to the tune, an action he would later deny up and down, and Spain leaned his head against Romano's as he played. It was comfortable, just as everything in their relationship had always been, and still the one thing about the world Romano could honestly say he hoped would never change.

"Thank you for worrying about me," Spain said halfway through the song and Romano scoffed, letting his eyes close.

"Fuck off, I wasn't worried," he replied without any real venom, "Just keep playing."


End file.
